‘Put me down at once.’ Grace was speaking into Will’s T-shirt with her face up against the hard wall of his back.
‘Really? You’re happy to take several hours to get home, are you?’
Grace kept quiet.
‘This way, it will take us a couple of minutes. I’ve carried people weighing a lot more than you over my shoulder, believe me.’
Grace wasn’t sure it was a compliment. She beat her fists lightly on his back for a moment but decided to give in gracefully. The upside-down view was surprisingly interesting. There were lights coming on in the tall painted houses on either side of the narrow steps, more and more of them the nearer they got to the water. Grace wondered what was going on in all those rooms. Pictures of breastfeeding mothers, small children jumping on beds, and couples sharing an early morning kiss and maybe more rushed into her head, although she shut that thought down immediately. She hadn’t stayed out all night for years. It would be Brownie points from her daughters when she told them about her adventures. Well, not about almost sleeping with a married man, obviously. Aside from the embarrassment, no grown-up child ever wanted to hear about their parents’ sex lives.
The shudder that ran through Will’s body to hers on every step was having a weird effect on her heart rhythm, which sped up by the second. Just as she got used to it, it stopped abruptly, and she found herself on her feet again and facing the sea. Being torn away from all that warmth was a shock and she shivered in the cool air. She’d dressed for a hot June evening in a flimsy dress, and now she wished she’d added a cardigan. Not quite as chic, but a lot more useful.
Will indicated the nearest table.
‘I’ll go in and order. What do you want?’
‘Erm, cappuccino, please.’
Another shiver overtook her.
‘Are you cold?’
Grace bit back a reply. Without speaking, Will took off the jumper slung round his neck, passed it to her and made for the bar.
The jumper slipped easily over her head. The sleeves came down way past her fingers, but she pushed them back up to her elbows. The fine black wool smelt of lemons and wood, obviously some expensive aftershave. It was a bit of a cliché that all gay men smelt good and wore freshly laundered clothes, but one she was happy to go with.
It was clear the night was far from over for some people, if the noise inside the bar was anything to go by. Raucous singing in Greek was followed by shouts and cheers. Grace was happy to sit facing the port and just lose herself in the orange sky.
The sound of a tray being put down on the table was loud, too loud. Will was back.
‘Were you asleep?’
‘Of course not.’
‘You had your eyes closed…’
‘Just thinking.’
‘Hmmm. Get this down you. It will keep you awake.’
Grace picked up the foaming coffee and took a long sip as Will took the seat beside her.
‘Thank you. How much do I owe you?’
That smirk was back.
‘I think I can afford to stand you a coffee.’
‘I prefer to pay my way.’
‘You can get the next one then.’
Will took a finger-shaped piece of pastry dusted with icing sugar from a plate on the tray.
‘Here, try one of these. They’re called bougatsa. Freshly baked next door.’
He pointed at the bakery, where all the lights were already on.
‘It’s a traditional Greek breakfast, filo pastry filled with a type of custard.’
